fete of the genies

Well, i'm not sure who still reads this...but if you do, thanks!

The summer months were trying for reasons I unfortunately cannot fully disclose (as i also mentioned briefly in my last post). What (i think) i'm allowed to say is that all the volunteers from my area were removed briskly from our villages for security reasons, and then put back (YAY.) at the very end of August.

Many people have been curious to know how my village reacted when I came back from the 2 month hiatus, and all I can say is that they were really happy and relieved, just like I was, and told me sternly to "never leave like that again." Lots of old women and men (and young women and men...and children for that matter) standing around scolding me. HOME SWEET HOME.

Shortly after my return, it was time for the big fete of Ramadan to break the month-long fast, or as it is aptly called in Moore "No-Lokre", "Providing for the mouth". It was, as always, a joyous occasion filled with more rice than a human should ever be allowed to consume, and lots of nice new clothes for everyone. The two major fetes in my village (Ramadan and Tabasky, which is coming up on Tuesday) are somewhat similar in practice, though the reasons for the fetes are different.

On a fete day, in the morning, everyone prays together at the Mosque, and then they go home and prepare rice with meat (everyone slaughters a white sheep for Tabasky) and then representatives are sent from each courtyard with food for the other courtyards. So someone from my courtyard will take a big bowl of our rice over to the courtyard next to ours, for instance, and then whoever they give the rice to over there will pour the rice into their own bowl, and then fill up our bowl with their rice. Trading rice. It's awesome and makes everyone happy. Then the kids get new clothes (usually the only days out of the year they get new clothes or shoes are these fetes) and run around to all the courtyards singing "SAMBE SAMBE" and people give them pocket change. I guess that aspect of it can be likened to trick-or-treating on halloween, though the rest of the fete is not halloween-like at all.

Some of my courtyard kids in their new outfits and cool sunglasses, getting ready to go out and collect their "sambe sambe".

The women distributing some rice they got as a gift from a relative who lives in Ouaga. Anytime someone gives something to our courtyard, it gets evenly distributed among everyone (including me).

Papa (one of the old men of the courtyard) and his wife (she's called "Soldier's wife" b/c he was in the war, so I don't know her real name) with some of the kids.

There's one really interesting belief (superstition?) associated with the fetes that I discovered this year. A bunch of the kids and women were sitting around my courtyard chatting on the night of Ramadan, and one of the kids said "Tomorrow, no one will go to the fields." I found this alarming, as we were still, at that time, in the heart of the cultivating season, and people are generally in the fields all day everyday. "Why not?" I asked her. "Because," she said "tomorrow is the fete of the genies!"

Apparently the day after the real fete, the genies (spirits? ghosts?) have their fete out in the fields, and it's a dangerous affair if you're not a genie (all of us people.)

"Yeah...the genies make their rice tomorrow, and then if you go eat it, you DIE!"

"Well then why don't you just not eat it?"

"Because if they offer it to you and you refuse...you DIE!"

"OK. So no one goes to the fields because if the genies see you there they'll make you eat their rice and then you'll die. Got it. Let's stay home tomorrow then."

"Exactly."

So the day after the fete, everyone stays home and relaxes.

In weather news, the rains have completely stopped now, and we're into the mini-hot season, getting ready for the cold season. Before the rains stopped though, in September, they got very strong, and knocked lots of people's houses down. One morning, after a wacko rain-storm that felt like a tornado/hurricane, I was going out to the fields with Yakoba, who had participated in the agricultural training I held back in May, and on my way to meet him in his courtyard, it seemed like at least one or two houses from every courtyard I passed through had fallen during the night. People seemed to be in good spirits regardless, laughing as they shoveled up scraps of their fallen houses. That's not to say they think it's funny, they don't, they just know that the houses will eventually get re-built, and for now, they'll sleep in someone else's house.

One of the fallen houses in my own courtyard.

Yakoba in his very successful millet field

I will give an update on the project I'm currently attacking (painting health murals on the CSPS wall!) as soon as it is done and I have good pictures of the finished product. Until then, I'll leave off with a few pictures from the day we gave out mosquito nets to everyone in the village. This year, nets were distributed all over Burkina Faso to every single family (in theory) in a campaign against malaria. Each family was supposed to receive 1 net for every 2 people, though we didn't receive enough nets to attain that number. Regardless, every family got at least a couple nets, which is better than nothing. I thought this campaign was especially good because the community health volunteers from the village who helped do the initial survey of the population and then distribute the nets will be going around in about a month to make sure that people's nets are properly put up in their houses. If they are still in the package at that time or if the wrapper of the package is not around (meaning the family took the net and sold it) the net will be taken away (if it is there). Finally, some responsibility and follow-up and not just a free easy gift that people don't know the value of and thus don't use.

Kali, Me, and Limata Issigui (women from my courtyard) standing in front of the demonstration mosquito net used to show people the proper techniques for hanging them up in the courtyard. (photography by Rouketou)

Line of people waiting for their nets (stretches back for at least a kilometer)

Community health volunteers from the village handing out the nets.